


Rage

by hebravelyranaway



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Humor, Dark Humor, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Mental Coercion, Mind Control, Past Family Death, Poor Carth, Possession, Revan has a questionable sense of humor, Revan is only partially dead during the second chapter, Revenge, Tragedy, Vigilantism, Zero-approval gambits, as per canon, as usual, but she kind of manages to possess someone anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3427616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hebravelyranaway/pseuds/hebravelyranaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being wounded in battle and rendered physically unable to serve on the front lines of the war, Carth decides to use his leave time to get revenge another way.  Unfortunately for him, his method of revenge attracts the attention of a certain dark lord.  AU.</p><p>Part two: Revan uses Carth, and forbidden Sith techniques, to convey important information about the war to the Jedi Council, seriously creeping them out in the process.</p><p>Part three: The Jedi Council comes to a decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Revan, Carth, or any other aspect of the KOTOR game. Lucas Arts and Bioware do, and I'm not making any money off of this story.

 

** Rage **

 

"So, do you come here often?"  Carth asked, feeling a little stupid.  It made him a little nauseous to flirt with the enemy, even if it was for a good cause, so he certainly wasn't going to put a lot of effort into being original.

The unhealthily pale, youngish woman in black robes, who he had privately labeled _obviously-a-Dark-Jedi_ , burst out laughing.

"Do you usually spend an hour nursing the same drink in the corner of a Cantina, just working up the courage to spout drunken clichés at women?"

Carth flushed.  Fortunately, the Sith he talked to were usually too drunk to notice how reluctant he really was to be around them, and he'd thought that obviously-a-Dark-Jedi had been, too.  He'd seen her put back two Tarisian Ales in the time he'd been nursing one drink, and that should have been enough to put a woman her size under the table.  As it was, the woman just seemed pleasantly buzzed, judging from the slightly exaggerated gestures she was making with her hands as she spoke, and her laugh, which was veering dangerously towards something he would have described as a drunken giggle on any other woman. 

"I haven't done this in awhile," he said defensively, unconsciously touching the place where he usually wore his wedding ring before he could stop himself.  He hooked his fingers beneath his bar stool, hoping she didn't notice what he had just done.

No such luck.

"You haven't had to pick up a woman since you met your wife, you mean.  Yet despite the indentation on your finger that tells me you usually wear a wedding ring, you're alone in a bar, forcing yourself to flirt with someone you obviously hated on sight."

He narrowed his eyes.

"I don't even know who you _are_.  Why would I hate you?"

"You don't know me, but you knew I was a dark jedi the instant you laid eyes on me.  It's not like I was trying to hide it," she said, plucking at her pitch-black robes.  "Besides, I can _feel_ the anger and pain within you every time you look at me, so there's no sense in lying about it.  But why would the Republic have sent someone so obviously unprepared and unsuited for an undercover operation to spy on me, unless...they haven't, and you're doing this for reasons of your own."

"You're paranoid, lady.  All those years of having to defend yourself from the backstabbing of your own allies must be getting to you."

"Well, you know what they say.  You're not paranoid if they're really out to get you," she rejoined, unfazed by his accusation.  "So how were you going to do it?  Slip a drug into my drink and kill me while I was unconscious?" she asked bluntly. 

Carth just looked at her for a moment before deciding that trying to trick this sharp-eyed woman would probably be an exercise in futility.

"I wasn't going to drug you," he said, repulsed by the very idea.  Even if he did want to get revenge on the Sith, he wasn't about to go about it like some rapist.

"Come on.  One _murderer_ to another.  You can tell me," she said, her voice practically oozing sincerity, and though her eyes widened in (supposed) innocence, there was a hint of knowing mockery in her tone that made him flinch.  She knew very well what being compared to a Sith would do to him.

"I was going to wait for you to attack me, shoot you when you were convinced I was helpless.  It hasn't failed yet.  Cowardly, back-stabbing _traitors_ don't seem to expect their _prey_ to fight back," he growled, voice thick with emotion.

"And because you wouldn't have attacked your victims if they hadn't attacked you first, the Force never warned them of the trap.  A clever plan," she said quietly, gazing at her drink as she swirled it contemplatively around in her glass.  "But someone without a death wish wouldn't even _consider_ trying to take out Dark Jedi that way.  That ring you usually have on your finger, you still wear it in remembrance of your wife and everyone else you've lost to this war, don't you?"

He could only glare at her, furious at her for being able to see through him so easily.

"I don't have a death wish.  I just don't have anything to live for.  There's a difference."

"A very small one, if it's even there at all."

"Look, maybe you've forgotten, but there are some things that are worth a lot more than a man's life and reputation.  If killing Dark Jedi could save just one other person's family from my wife and son's fate..." He choked up, "Well, let's just say that that's worth a lot more to me than the _privilege_ of living out the rest of my life alone."

She was quiet for a long moment.

"This may be hard for you to believe, but I remember."

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"What?"

"I do remember what it's like to care about people, about a…a cause, more than your own life.  Believe it or not, but that's why I became a Sith at first.  I became so disillusioned with the Republic during the Mandolorian wars, that I thought a change, _any_ change, would be better than what we had.  But now I'm constantly surrounded by people who want to kill me, people who used to be my friends...  I would have entrusted my life to them, once.  _Sacrificed_ my life _for_ them." She laughed humorlessly.  "And now most of them wouldn't hesitate to murder me for power."

"Well, forgive me if I'm not sympathetic.  You _betrayed_ Republic.  You're _slaughtering_ the same people you swore to protect in the last war.  It serves you right if one of your former friends ends up stabbing you in the back.  Traitors get what they deserve, in the end."

"Some of them. The rest succeed in their goals, and live to write history with themselves as the heroes."

He snarled at her.

"You're delusional if you think you're going to win."

She gave him a sidelong glance.

"Right.  I think I'm going to need another drink for this conversation.  Bartender!  Another ale, and one for my companion."

"You want to have a _drink_ with me?  I just confessed that I was going to kill you!  I still _want_ to!  I'd damn well rather kill you than sit here drinking peacefully with one of my family's murderers."

"Hey!  Is there a problem here?" the bartender asked, setting down their drinks in front of them and looking between Carth and the Sith with alarmed, wide eyes.

Obviously-a-Dark-Jedi waved her fingers in front of his face.

"We're just some couple arguing about our sex life.  You feel the need to get the hell out of here and forget you heard anything.  It's the only way you'll be able to erase those images from your mind," she said mischievously, her mouth curling in a wicked smile.

The Bartender blinked, and backed away from them slowly.

"You know what?  I don't think I want to know," he said, and retreated to a room behind the bar to clean dishes. 

Carth snorted, unwillingly amused through his haze of rage.  He clenched his jaw in displeasure.

"Cute," he said sarcastically.  "Any cuter, and you'd be a Gammorean's sister."

"Well, I usually don't let people who witness my private business live, but I thought it would put an end to our uneasy truce if I gutted him right in front of you."

"We have an uneasy truce?"

"We're not actively trying to kill each other, are we?  Besides, you just bought me a drink.  I think that constitutes a truce."

"I _did not_ buy you that drink!"

"What, you want to drink and run, Republic?  I didn't think you were that kind of guy."

Carth sputtered.

"I—I didn't even _want_ this drink!  What's wrong with you?  Don't you have any credits?"

"Of course, but I don't really care if we steal from him.  You're the one who's going to complain about it if I just convince him I paid already."  Carth could only gape at her audacity for a moment, but she started talking again before he could think of anything to say in response.  "I'm not in Malak's fleet, you know.  I didn't kill your family."

"How did you know I was from Telos?" he growled, reaching for his blasters.

"Calm _down_.  I don't know who you are.  I didn't target you, or anything.  It's just obvious to someone as well-traveled as I am that you have a Telosian accent.  It was a good bet that you were one of the survivors of the bombardment."

"I see," he said coldly, still skeptical.

"Not all us Sith agreed with the destruction of Telos, you know.  My family was killed that way by the Mandalorians, about fifteen years before the beginning of the Mandalorian war."  She laughed bleakly, looking nauseous.  "There was...there was _so much_ ash.  I could _taste_ it in my mouth weeks later..." She swallowed.  "That's not to say I'm not responsible for the destruction of anyone else's family.  I've taken many lives in service to my cause.  But to witness everyone and everything you've known destroyed before your eyes in a matter of seconds... that's not something I would wish on anybody.  It's actually one of the reasons I've started frequenting cantinas more often."

"Drowning the guilt?"

"Remorse is a weakness," she said sharply, but didn't deny feeling it either, Carth noticed. 

"That happens in regular warfare, too.  Worlds might not be destroyed, but cities, families are destroyed just the same.  Sometimes in a matter of seconds."

"I know.  That's why I'm drinking.  I became so good at detaching myself from the losses we suffered during the Mandalorian wars, and eventually grew to love the thrill, the challenge of battle: planning attacks, outsmarting the enemy, _outfighting_ the enemy.  As a Sith, I thrived on the power those victories gave me.  I even thrived on the destruction.  The...bloodshed.  But lately, all they have given me are memories of my baby sister turning to ash before my eyes, because I'd been fortunate enough to be shielded by a downed star cruiser when the laser fire started.  I couldn't save her, I was _supposed_ to—" She gasped, then laughed somewhat hysterically.  "Malak did this to me.   _Damn_ him.  He's won after all, in a way."

Carth furrowed his brows in confusion.

"He turned you into a Sith?"

She snorted.

" _Hardly_.  No, it's his fault I'm acting this _weak_!  He must have known how the bombardment of an entire planet would affect me even if _I_ didn't know it at the time.  He knew my greatest weakness, and played on it brilliantly. I'm afraid that I…truly underestimated him in that regard.  I forgot how well he knows me, because more often than not, we feel like strangers, now."

Carth slammed his glass down on the bar nearly hard enough to break it.

"What the hell?  Just how out of touch with reality does the dark side make you? The destruction of my homeworld is…  Not every event in the galaxy has something to do with you, sister!"

"I agree.  But it's not without cause that I assumed he destroyed your world to hurt me," she said, meeting his eyes with honest regard, then staring fixedly at her drink again as she swirled it around in her glass, something he was beginning to realize was a nervous habit of hers.  She took a long swig of it and slammed the glass back down on the table.  "It benefits him to have me at my weakest, and he's known me a long time, so he knows _exactly_ how to get to me.  I almost killed him for destroying Telos, but that didn't undo the effect his actions had on me."

Carth forgot to breathe for a moment as the implications of what she'd just said hit him.

" _Revan_ ," he growled.

She gave him an over the top bow, almost tipping off of her bar stool as she did so.

"Guilty as charged," the Dark Lord said wryly.

He had his blaster pressed against her head in less than a second.

"Damn right, you're guilty.  I could end this war right now."

She narrowed her sulfur-colored eyes at him defiantly.

"Go ahead.  You'll have to face even more of a monster when I'm gone, and then it'll be your fault when Malak does to the entire galaxy what he did to your homeworld!"

He dug the blaster even harder into her skull.

"You really want to die?  Then keep testing me!" Carth snarled.  Tears blurred his eyes, so he couldn't see the expression on her face.

Before he even registered the absence of a weapon in his hand, she had already ripped his blaster out of his grasp and flung it into the farthest wall with the Force.

"Yes," she gasped.

"What?"

"Yes, I want to die, sometimes.  But I want to live a lot more.  I think that's why I told you who I really was.  A confession, of sorts."

"Because you wanted to die, or because you wanted to live?"

Her mouth curved into a small, humorless smile.

"I don't know.  Possibly both," she said bluntly.

He shook his head in amazement.

"You're crazy."

She grimaced.

"Probably at least a little."

They were silent for a moment, both trying to catch their breaths.

"You should stop, if you regret this war enough to want to end your own life," Carth said quietly.  "You can't bring back any of the people you murdered, but you can prevent anyone else from dying."

She laughed humorlessly.

"Do you really think that the war could be stopped so easily at this point?  If I tried to surrender my forces to the Republic, I would most likely be dead within an hour, and Malak or any of the other Sith Lords on my Dark Council would take my place.  I am making an effort to take out all the worst of my followers to mitigate the damage, except for Malak because he still has…a purpose for now, but trying to end the war altogether wouldn't work out for anyone.  This war...is about so much more than my hatred for the Republic."

"What?  What do you mean?"

Revan shot him an unreadable, measuring glance.

"I can't end the war," she said cautiously.  "It's too important for..."

"For _what_?  What could be important enough to justify the slaughter of millions of sentients?!" he said, starting to believe that she really was crazy.

"Nothing could possibly justify it.  I realize now that I was fooling myself to think otherwise.  But it has to happen, anyway."

"You _are_ crazy."

She smiled the same small smile that she had before, and shrugged, as if to say that there was nothing she could do about it.

"I can't end the war, Republic, but can give you the next best thing."

"I don't _want_ the next best thing," he growled, suddenly trembling with rage again.  "I want my family back.  I want them to be _safe_.  Failing that, I want to kill Saul.  Dammit, what could possibly replace any of those things?"

"I didn't say anything could," she said with seeming indifference, though her already unnaturally pale skin had turned even paler at his words.  "But tell me you would pass up an opportunity for information."

Carth narrowed his eyes at her, instantly suspicious.

"You're just going to hand me vital information about the Sith war effort."

"Information that could only be accessed by the Republic, or more specifically, by the Jedi, in the event of my death.  That way, if Malak outlives me, you'll have a better chance of stopping him before he does too much damage."

"And how are you planning to give us information that we could only access after your death?  Sorry to burst your bubble, sister, but there is no technology in the galaxy that is advanced enough that it can't be hacked into eventually.  There is no way you could guarantee that we wouldn't access it before you wanted us to, and I doubt you're stupid enough to assume that there was.  There has to be something you're not telling me," he said, feeling dread in the pit of his stomach. 

"No technology is that secure, but nothing's impossible with the Force.  I'm sorry, but I really couldn't allow you to remember this conversation anyway."  

_"What?"_

"Your mind will be the repository for the information I'm giving the Republic.  The only catch is that you won't remember it, or your conversation with me, until you need to." 

She suddenly moved forward so fast that she looked like a blur, and then her hands were gripping his head so hard his skull felt like it was going to crack.  His world tilted, and as everything began to fade to black, her soft voice said one last thing in his mind.

 _If you ever remember any of this, it means that I'm already dead, an occasion that I am sure will cause you a great deal of relief.  Despite our conflicting beliefs and opposite sides in this war, however, there is something I want to ensure you are made aware of in the event of my demise.  Your son is alive, Carth Onasi, and he is being trained as a Sith on Korribaan.  With any luck he'll still be alive and well by the time you get this, and I won't become the indirect cause of death for yet another one of your family members.  For what it's worth, and I know it's not worth a whole lot because I can't bring your wife back, I_ am _sorry._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carth learns the true power of the dark side when his mind is possessed by someone who is supposed to be dead.

 

Knights and Padawans of all different ages cried out in alarm as he stumbled into their midst, their voices sounding like a strangely distant echo to his ears even though they were close enough to touch.

_Tell the Jedi that the True Sith—_

Memories screamed though Carth's mind at the sound of that voice, the voice of a traitor, murderer, _liar_.  They were fractured reflections of a thousand alien worlds and unfamiliar faces, but he couldn't understand them no matter how hard he tried, because they weren't his memories, just grotesque transplants that were taking the place of his, warping his mind until all that mattered was _her_ voice, _her_ mission. 

_Tell them!  The True Sith are—_

He threw open the doors of the High Council Chamber and collapsed in front of the shocked Jedi Masters, relishing the alarm on the faces of those complacent, self-righteous fools who cared nothing for life outside these walls.

"—here, they're coming for you and they'll destroy us all!  You fools, still hiding in your temple like cowards while condemning the people who are dying to keep the galaxy you pledged to protect safe!"

"Who's coming to destroy us, Revan?" Master Vrook said, stepping forward to ask the question that was on all of the council members' lips with a surprisingly steady voice, though he had gone white as a sheet, his papery, wrinkled skin draining of all color. 

"Is this possession or mental compulsion?" Master Zhar whispered frantically from behind Vrook to Masters Vandar and Sunrider.  "It seems like possession, but she's not even really dead.  How is it possible for someone in a coma to possess someone?"

"I don't know _how_ it is possible," Grand Master Sunrider said carefully.  "But while our archive does not contain holocrons explaining such powers, there are records of some Sith possessing powers that are more akin to…magic than normal Force powers. We're almost lucky that Revan's tends to restrict her use of the black arts to mind control, considering what Exar Khun did with such skills."

The Captain felt a moment of confusion, and he tried to shake himself free of the fog that was filling his mind.  Revan?  He—he wasn't Revan, was he?  But then all he could hear was her voice again, all that mattered was her will, and he couldn't for the life of him remember what his name was if it _wasn't_ Revan.  That was the last thought he had before his conscious mind was brutally smothered by a foreign presence, filling him with a sense of profound wrongness. 

"You know that hidden threat that you and Atris were so afraid of during the Mandalorian wars?"  Revan said with his voice, and forced his expression, puppet-like, into a derisive sneer.  Vrook's eyes widened in alarm, and she laughed.  "I found them.  The True Sith survived, and Malak is now under the control of a Sith emperor who makes Exar Khun look like an avatar of justice and light.  If your captain is in front of you, I can only assume I am dead, and that the Emperor has found out about my efforts to sabotage his plans."

"You're not dead, Revan, just in a coma," Zhar said softly. 

She tilted her host's head in confusion.

"How?  I made sure that Captain Onasi could only release this information to you upon the event of my death."

"Bastila did say that your heart stopped for a few seconds.  But you were never brain dead.  She was able to bring you back."

"That is…unexpected.  Who would spare a Dark Lord?  But…Oh.  I assume you needed information about my fleet," she said, feeling strangely empty.  Most people would assume that someone like her was too dangerous to be kept alive, no matter what could be potentially gained from capturing her, but not the Jedi.  Of all the damned, foolish, stupid…

"Her mission was to capture you alive, if possible, but not many thought…" Zhar winced, "No one expected her to go to the lengths she did to save your life," he admitted almost guiltily.  _Fool_.  "Bastila has an uncommonly compassionate heart, even for a Jedi."

Her head swam as she felt her hold on the dark side briefly falter, and her host suddenly pushed himself back into the forefront of his own mind, though she managed to barely keep her hold over his will out of sheer determination.

"Then I owe her a debt, and I will pay it," the Captain said with all the solemnity of a vow, though for some reason, it didn't seem like _his_ vow.  Carth shook his head, trying to clear it.  There were new memories intruding upon his thoughts, memories that felt just as wrong and foreign as the others had, and sharp panic filled him as he tried again and again to push them out and couldn't. 

_WHY ARE THEY IN MY HEAD, WHY ARE THEY IN MY HEAD, GET OUT GETOUTGET—_

"I think it's time we get back on track, as touching as this reunion between you and your evil former apprentice has been, Zhar," Vrook said with some urgency, likely sensing a shift in her host's mental state again.  "What were these plans that you disrupted?  What does the emperor want?"

She clawed her way back into the forefront of her host's mind, using Captain Onasi's own growing fear to increase her power and shove the now panicking man back into unconsciousness.

"Revenge.  The annihilation of the Jedi, the Republic, maybe even all life other than him.  He is so evil that even some of the Sith Lords that serve him are disgusted by him, but are too afraid to protest, and too selfish to work together against him if they ever did.  Use the information I have hidden away in Carth's mind, or he will destroy you, and take the galaxy with you."

"But why would you—" Zhar started to ask, but Revan interrupted, feeling her tenuous hold on her host slipping yet again, and with how fast her strength was waning, she doubted she could keep her hold over his mind for much longer unless she took it upon herself to damage him enough so that he could no longer fight back.  _My_ , but her Republic soldier was strong-willed for someone so accustomed to following orders.  Then again, he had proven with his previous actions that he wasn't exactly the typical Republic soldier.

"Sorry, time's up." She flashed him a humorless smile.  "I'm afraid my host is growing restless, so you'll have to save your questions for the Revan in your infirmary…if you Jedi actually follow the tenets of your own order, and allow her to wake up, that is," she said, cursing herself for her own weakness before getting up the courage to let her false consciousness and the web of Sith sorcery holding it together dissolve back into the Force.  If they let her survive, it was beyond her control, after all, and she owed this Republic soldier too much to continue violating his mind like this when she no longer needed to.

Carth felt her presence leave him all at once, and he collapsed to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut, gasping in relief as tears streamed down his cheeks.  There was a sharp pain behind his eyes, and he clenched his eyelids shut against his nausea before mercifully blacking out. 


	3. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jedi Council decides what to do with Revan.

"Is she sleeping?" Grandmaster Sunrider asked quietly.

Zhar nodded.

"She was starting to wake up, but she was still too damaged to know where she was and started panicking, so they sedated her. What do you intend to do with her?" They took in the unconscious figure of the former dark lord, and Zhar, to his shame, had to blink back tears.  He quickly released his grief to the Force, but he was sure that the Grandmaster had been able to feel it.  Sure enough, she shot him a concerned but somewhat chastising look that made him want to squirm like an unruly Padawan.

 "Your compassion does you justice, Zhar.  But I fear it will cloud your judgment.  If you let down your guard around her because of who she used to be, she will take advantage of it.  It's the nature of the Dark Side."

Zhar winced, knowing that the Grandmaster was talking from her personal experience with darksiders. Even though he thought it was probably different this time, considering Revan had all but turned herself in and her reasons for helping them fit her personality, he knew that her words came from hard-won wisdom rather than self-righteousness, so he would give her advice the weight it deserved.

"Shall I take that to mean that you intend to let the healers repair her mind completely, then?"

The Grandmaster gave a curt nod, her lips pursing in worry.

"The Force told us that it was the best course of action," she said, referring to the council meeting that Zhar had been forced to sit out due to conflict of interest, considering that he was one of Revan's former masters.

Zhar simply nodded. His meditations had told him the same thing, and he hadn't thought, despite how understandably wary letting a former Dark Lord of the Sith keep her memories and powers made everyone on the High Council, that they would go against the will of the Force.

"I have to try and reach her. I know there's a danger, but if there's any chance..."

Her expression softened with sympathy.

"I understand. I simply want you to be cautious.  What of the Captain?  Have you had any news of his health?"

"He seems to be dehydrated and malnourished—her compulsion must have kept him going past normal human gumption for some time—but otherwise fine. He's merely sedated now, too, and being given intravenous nutrients to help him recover.  Given his experience, I've also taken the liberty of getting a mind healer to talk to him when he wakes up.  Not only must that experience have been terrifying for him, but who knows what kind of effect that type of exposure to the dark side has on someone who's force-blind?"

"I agree. I think you should be the one to directly supervise Healer Rekah when she is woken up.  She seems to have been planning to help us for awhile, but I doubt she meant to end up in our custody, and if she reacts badly to it, someone should be in there with him. Besides, of us all, you are the one she is most on good terms with within the Council.  We will, however, be outside the room if you have need of us."

Zhar nodded in agreement.

"Yes, Grandmaster. I will tell you when they have finished with their healing and are ready to wake her up."

*

"Revan," Zhar said softly.

They were in a still-unconscious Revan's mind, but she had mentally created a room around them that mirrored her old quarters in the Coruscant temple, and Zhar watched her stir irritably in her sleep, brows furrowing slightly as if trying to block out his voice.

He sighed. He didn't want to startle her, but it didn't look like whispering was going to wake up.  The sedatives must still have been affecting her slightly, because Revan had been a light sleeper since he'd know her, and he highly doubted that she would have become a _heavier_ sleeper during the war.

" _Revan_ ," he said more loudly.

She jolted awake with a gasp, her hand falling to her hip where her lightsaber would usually be, and indeed, one appeared in her hand as he watched. Curiously, she relaxed as soon as she saw who it was, and that he was unarmed.  Well, that was a promising, if surprising start.

"Oh, it's you," she said, looking supremely unthreatened. He decided to take it as a sign of trust in his character rather than as a sign that she simply had no faith in his fighting skills when compared to her own.  While he knew that Revan had surpassed him in power as well as in the lightsaber style that he had taught her, that would have been a little bit hard to take.

"It is indeed."

She stiffened in realization.

"What are you doing in my mind?"

Zhar eyed her in concern, realizing that Grandmaster Sunrider was right in guessing there might still be gaps in her memory, both from the time of the trauma, and perhaps during the time she took over Captain Onasi's mind. They still did not fully understand if that had really been her, or some echo of her memories and personality that she had created in the Force.

"You were injured, and were taken captive. It was decided that we should warn you ahead of time, before you woke up, panicked, and hurt yourself when you tried to escape.  And yes, you would be more likely to hurt yourself than other people in the state you're in right now," he said in response to her incredulous look.  She raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and he sighed, having almost forgotten how condescending she could be. _Almost_.  Zhar countered with his patented disapproving look, which she had received many times as a Padawan.  That just made her grin in amusement, though.  She always had enjoyed pushing his buttons.

"So you chose to capture the Dark Lord of the Sith instead of killing me when you had the chance? That is an… _interesting_ choice."  He could tell, from her tone, that when she said interesting, she really meant stupid.

"It was the _only_ choice."  It was the only choice his heart would accept, despite what the other masters said.

Her expression softened a little bit as she sensed what he hadn't said.

"It's time to be _blunt_ , Zhar.  You hardly need to shield me from the truth.  As it's a truth concerning Jedi, I doubt it's all that horrible, anyway."

He sighed in frustration.

"You can be so…I know I don't _need_ to shield you.   I want to.  It is my privilege as one of the people who raised you."

She blinked in surprise, looking at him like she had never seen him before, and he realized that, no, she really didn't understand. After the hastily concealed confusion, he saw that she looked torn between annoyed and flattered, though.  He supposed that wasn't the worst outcome that could have come from admitting to a Sith Lord that he still cared about her.  For example, she could have pretended that she still understood how to care for him back and then slit his throat when his guard was down.

He grimaced.

"Alright, as much as I wish it wasn't so, it was merely the _ideal_ choice," he admitted.  "We wanted to take you alive, of course, but we doubted it was possible.  Fortunately, the Force intervened."

"So it seems. Well, I've been warned.  I promise not to panic upon waking and strain a kneecap, or something."

Zhar put his head in his hands, trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to stifle his amusement. The more serious a situation was, the more she would joke about it, he knew.  Still, this wasn't the time for it.  He doubted that even she could make light of the other subjects they needed to talk about.

"Revan…that's not the only thing we wanted to discuss with you."

"Oh?"

"The Captain…we're keeping him away from you for now until he sees a mind healer."

"That is probably for the best. I doubt he wants to see me right now anyway.  Or ever."

She said it lightly, but it was clear, contrary to all expectation, that Onasi's opinion mattered to her. Of course, he was also from a planet that had been destroyed by an invading army, and considering how central of an event the loss of her homeworld had been in her life, and that she was partially responsible for the destruction of his homeworld, it didn't surprise him that Captain Onasi had had an effect on her conscience when nothing else had.

"You will likely have to be together at some point to help with the war effort, but yes, he will need to recover some from the ordeal you put him through first."

She grimaced, actually looking remorseful.

"You actually want me to help with the war effort?" she asked quietly.

"That's why you came to us, isn't it?"

"I merely created an echo of myself to send to you if Malak managed to kill me. I didn't want to leave the galaxy at his mercy if he succeeded in taking me out.  That…spell…wasn't even supposed to work if I survived," she said, hesitating over the terminology in a way that told Zhar that she thought he wouldn't recognize the real name of the power she had used, and was therefore substituting it for a generic term like 'spell', even though it brought to mind primitive superstition rather sophisticated uses of the Force.  All academics had their own jargon that people outside of their professions had difficulty understanding, and he doubted that Sith—well, the ones smart enough to create entirely new powers, at least—were any different.

"Malak did succeed at killing you, but only for a moment. Your heart stopped, but you had not yet joined the Force, so Padawan Bastila attempted to heal you."

"Attempted?"

"You were so badly injured that she only barely succeeded at reviving you and keeping you alive. We had to finish healing your head injury here, but Bastila…went through great lengths to save your life.  That's the other thing I have to warn you about, actually."

"Oh, other than the fact that I'm going to be working with someone whose family I killed and I'm going to be a captive of the Jedi for the rest of my natural life? I'm sure it can only get better from here. Please, do go on." 

Zhar smiled a little sadly. Considering what he was about to tell her, they would hardly need to restrain her in any way to keep her here.  She would stay, simply because Bastila was here.

"In order to save your life, she had to form a Force bond with you."

Revan paled and went still.

"Then I owe her a debt," she said finally, voice like steel. "You have my word that I will repay it, and that I won't harm her with this bond."

Zhar nodded, unsurprised by what would be an unusual gesture from most other Sith. Revan had been raised on Deralia for the first ten years of her life, and they had been a proud and old warrior society that the Mandalorians had seen as worthy first opponents in their campaign.  The Deralian emphasis on honor was almost as strong as that of the Wookiees or the Mandalorians'.  This wasn't quite a Wookiee life debt, but it was definitely a strong enough vow to insure that Bastila had one of the deadliest protectors in the Galaxy.  Revan didn't give her word often, but when she did, she kept it.

"Then on behalf of Bastila and the Jedi Council, I am honored to accept your vow," he said solemnly, bowing as much as he could while sitting in a chair by her bed. "I must say, you're taking this a lot better than Bastila did."

She let out a dry laugh.

"I can imagine. Finding out that your fate is irrevocably intertwined with a Sith Lord's for all of eternity can't be fun."

"I don't believe I've ever heard the normally proper Bastila curse so creatively."

"That must have been amusing."

Zhar grimaced.

"If not for the distress behind it, I would agree with you. But still, it's good to see that falling to the Dark Side hasn't made you lose your sense of humor."

"Would you even recognize me without my sense of humor?"

"Probably not, no."

"So, are you going to get on with escorting me to my cell, already, or do you have any other life changing revelations you would like to share?" she asked lightly.

"We're not going to keep you in a cell, Revan."

She looked at him sharply, eyes narrowed.

"…Not that I'm protesting, but why ever not?"

"Your fate is entwined with Bastila's, now, and you have given your oath to repay your debt to her. Besides, the Force told us to trust you, to work with you, and so we will."

She swallowed, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

"As the Force is telling me to trust you. I just thought I would have to do it from within the dungeons on Coruscant.  It's been a long time since I've trusted anybody," she admitted.

"It won't be easy at first, for either of us, but it will get easier with time."

"I hope you're right. But, Zhar…I'm not a Jedi, and I never will be again.  I am _going_ to use the Dark Side in front of you.  Staying at the Jedi temple, allying with you to honor my vow, won't change that.  I won't try to change who I am to please the Jedi ever again."

Zhar nodded, unsurprised. The Mandalorian wars had been a great contention between the Jedi Council and Revan for years before she had finally defied them to formally join the fight.  The other members of the council had made it so that Revan felt that she had to choose between being a good Jedi, and a good person.  It was unsurprising that she was unwilling to ever take up the mantle of Jedi again.  However, the damage the dark side could inflict on someone wasn't confined to members of a certain order, and hopefully she would come to see that using those powers was just as damaging to her as it was to everyone else.

"As well you shouldn't. If you do change, it should be for yourself, because you want to, because you realize that the dark side is hurting you almost as much as it hurts your victims.  But I understand why you wouldn't want to be a Jedi again, and why understanding the corrupting nature of the dark side won't come overnight for you.  I don't expect it to," he said, and then before she could protest, he waved his hand, a stream of the Force surrounding them with its warming light.  "What do you say we continue this conversation when you're awake?" 

With that, Zhar opened his eyes and forced his former Padawan into consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done with finals! Sorry for the long wait, but graduate school doesn't allow people much time for fun...or sleeping.


End file.
